


Even gods can bleed. Even gods can weep.

by PhakeFysics



Series: Final Fantasy XIV [3]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Au Ra Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Au Ra Xaela Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Final Fantasy XIV: Shadowbringers, M/M, Male Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Mutual Pining, Named Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Patch 5.0: Shadowbringers Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-26
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:35:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28340253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PhakeFysics/pseuds/PhakeFysics
Relationships: Aymeric de Borel/Player Character, Aymeric de Borel/Warrior of Light
Series: Final Fantasy XIV [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2046014
Kudos: 5





	Even gods can bleed. Even gods can weep.

It never did get any easier, did it?

The snow piled so high, so quickly. The flowers he had set there last time were nothing but husks of stems, the bouquet paper tattered and ripped, fraying in the wind. Replacing the remains with a fresh bouquet, Hanze knelt down, ignoring the chill dampness on his knees and the pain in his body as he brushed the piled layers from the marker and ruined shield. A red unicorn, scuffed and faded greeted him. As did the shattered hole just next to it.

Sitting back on his heels, the usual straight backed auri slumped, heaving the exhausted sigh that always clung to his throat these days. He tended to visit the Knight's grave whenever he had a fleeting moment to himself. He knew he should have been in bed, resting, but who even knew when he'd have another moment to himself.

He didn't know what to feel anymore. Everything hurt whenever he was in Coerthas. Seeing the spires of Ishgard in the hazy distance; nowhere ever felt like home… except when he shared Haurchefant's hearth. His fear back then, now turned into his unending regret. How many times in the quiet nights the other would sit with him and offer him kind words and soft smiles, did Hanze want to tell him, want to confess. But it wouldn't do. It would never do. It felt… wrong somehow. Forbidden. 

Was the Warrior of Light allowed this?

He felt less and less of himself each passing day. Some days he reveled in the pain. Forgetting himself in the blood of battle, feeling the remnants of Hraesvelgr’s borrowed power thrumming through him, guiding his lance.  
Maybe Zenos had the right of it all along.

He was just a wild animal that always craved the bloodshed, the hunt, the kill. It's where he could forget and just be the unapologizing weapon of destruction that so many wielded with reckless abandon.

But what was even worse is that a part of him yet yearned for an ishgardian that yet lived. He knew it would never come to pass, never be allowed, so he kept the choking feeling close to his chest. He felt empty and wanted to vomit all at the same time.

Why him? Why did She have to choose him? He was a nothing au ra from a nothing family with no birth worth noting. Why did he have to be… anyone?

The brighter the light, the longer and deeper the shadows…

-  
Of course he should have known the auri's stubborn recklessness would see him sneak away from the infirmary. Aymeric had just gotten dressed in fresh robes when an urgent missive reached him noting the Warrior of Light’s sudden disappearance from his infirmary bed. It riled the chirurgeons in a frenzy, panicked at the implication they were negligent and let the Hero of Ishgard and Champion of Eorzea waltz out whilst still gravely wounded.

Aymeric finished dressing as fast as he could, uttering very inappropriate curses under his breath. Sometimes… Only some times did the Warrior of Light test his patience and his capacity for stress. Usually when the other risked his life so needlessly.

Heading out to the stables, Aymeric quickly mounted a chocobo and spurred it on quickly. The missive only stated the Warrior had been last spotted heading out of the gates of Ishgard.

-  
The various knights at Camp Dragonhead saw him often enough and easily pointed the Lord Commander in the right direction. A tall blond au ra with dark scales was very unique in Coerthas and hard to miss. Managing to keep professional in the face of the rank and file, he remounted the chocobo and headed north.

He felt his nerves spiking as he spurred the chocobo faster, worried he would find Hanze collapsed in the snow. But this feeling paled in comparison to when he had first seen the other so gravely injured.

Aymeric had never known a feeling of fear and panic so primal as when the vaunted Warrior of Light - Hanze, one of his deepest friends, lay pale and limp in his arms, bleeding from deep wounds and gashes. The main one across his middle was the worst by far as field medics worked to stabilize him. They were covered in his blood by the end of it and his breathing was dangerously shallow.

He had never seen the Warrior of Light bleed. 

He bled red… just like the rest of them. He was still mortal. Still a man and not the god so many regarded him as. Aymeric had made sure none but the best chirurgeons in Ishgard were tasked with mending Hanze. 

After several days, he had finally awoken and Aymeric remembered exhaling the breath he had been holding for nigh on four days. He thought he had lost another friend… and he couldn't bear to think how he would have coped.

But much like Estinien, the pleading to stay in bed and rest was ignored and here the Lord Commander was; racing to see Hanze returned to proper bed rest.

But now he had details on where the auri had slipped off to after a brief conversation. Aymeric's heart sank a little when he was told where the Champion had run off to, knowing Haurchefant’s death still weighed heavy on his heart.

Aymeric ignored the sting of cold in his eyes as he ascended the incline to the peak where their friend had been memorialized, seeing a figure kneeling in front of it past the haze. Ah… there he was. 

Bringing his chocobo to a halt, he dismounted, keeping himself from running up to the other. 

Thank Halone he was still in one piece.  
-  
Hanze's alertness spiked, his life on the battlefield honing his senses. Glancing over his shoulder he saw a tall figure approaching and saw the flash of a familiar blue robe. No… no he could face Aymeric. Not now at his lowest point.

But it was too late, he could already see the Lord Commander's face through the gloom, which meant the Ishgardian clocked him as well. 

Getting to his feet, Hanze blinked away the heavy threat of tears as Aymeric drew closer, the crunch of his footfalls in the snow growing louder. Hanze didn't bother bringing himself to look over as the man he had feelings for, stopped next to him.

"You are a difficult man to find," Aymeric mused, offering a warm smile up at Hanze. It quickly fell into a soft frown of concern, "You should be resting… you have nearly half the city in a frenzy" The elezen grinned. Perhaps an exaggeration on the elezen’s part.

“Wouldn’t be the first time…” clipped the au ra in a murmur.

It was odd, Aymeric was used to being exceptionally tall, but the au ra stood nigh on a head taller than him. Aymeric watched as he nodded, clearly upset at being found, and folded his arms, the tip of his tail flicking back and forth in agitation.

Offering an encouraging smile, he spared a glance toward the memorial and the fresh flowers. Without realizing, or thinking of potential consequences, Aymeric laid his hand on Hanze's forearm. "It doesn't get easier… does it? You needn't bear these burdens alone," he offered, giving his arm a reaffirming squeeze. 

Despite his wish to continue pouting, Aymeric’s reassuring touch was warm and comforting, blossoming along all of Hanze’s body. The bitter cold and icy winds seemed to recede with the comforting touch and not bite into his core as harshly. After a few moments, he finally offered a nod and a soft sigh, dropping his arms from their defensive cross.

“I appreciate the gesture… I suppose it is time we head back… I’m sure the head chirurgeon is fit to bite my head off…” he muttered, which caused a warm chuckle from Aymeric.

The melodic sound forced a grin to spread across Hanze’s lips, “I’d take a dragon’s snapping jaws over that of an angry and overbearing healer,” he mused, which forced another laugh from the elezen. 

It was a sound the au ra wouldn’t mind listening to all day, in all actuality.  
-

Once having stripped the warrior down to the thin linens he wore under much of his armor, the chirurgeon only gave a displeased click of the tongue before patching his torn stitches and wrapping his bandages tightly. The constriction on his raw wounds forced a wince out of the au ra, which earned him a sarcastic chiding.

"Well ye wouldn't be in this mess if ye had stayed in bed, eh?" The healer quipped as they tied off the wrappings from Hanze’s midsection.

The warrior could only give a small purse of his lips in return, but said nothing, pulling his shirt back down once the bandages were fully in place.

As the chirurgeon went to put their tools away, a soft knock resounded from the door and in peeked Aymeric’s face. "Am I allowed back in?" He mused with a grin.

This only earned him a light glare, "If ye must, Lord Commander," the healer clipped neutrally.

Stepping inside fully, Aymeric offered his titular smile that could melt the heart of even the most stubborn of enemies and sway them to his side. "Thank you so much for your patience in this matter. I will see to it personally that our friend here does not escape to the highlands once more," he said lightly, but Hanze heard the veiled threat behind it. A friendly threat… but a threat nonetheless.

"Hmph. Well. Much appreciated, Lord Borel. And you-" they wheeled around on Hanze, "Ye may be the Warrior o' Light, but if ye keep getting outta bed and refusin’ ta heal, ye won’t be warrior o nothin." They glared at the au ra lightly.

Hanze found some amusement in the chirurgeon's ruffles feathers, as it were. "Of course," he responded evenly, moving to lie back down and get comfortable.

This seemed to ease the chirurgeon's raised hackles a tad as they grabbed their things and made to exit the room.

Alone together once again…

"Is this the longest we've spent in each other's presence?" Hanze mused as Aymeric went to sit on the bedside chair.

"Hmm… maybe second to when you shared my table," he shrugged, trying to fight the blush that threatened to blossom along his cheeks.

"Mmm probably right," the blond muttered before heaving a sigh. "Can't… remember the last time I had some time to relax…" Hanze mused mostly to himself. This caused Aymeric to tilt his head in sympathy, "I, myself, am in the same position. There is much work that must always be done. New problems arising every day."

"Well… I wouldn't know where to begin with contending with Lords and Ladies or the politics that revolve around an entire reform of government," the au ra shrugged, which elicited an amused hum from the elezen.

"And I wouldn't have the blind confidence you have when you march off to slay another primal," Aymeric countered lightly, which now earned an amused chuckle from Hanze this time in response.

Their banter felt natural, felt right. Hanze felt himself sinking against the pillows, the gentle conversation and soothing tone that Aymeric spoke with lulled him into a more relaxed state.

"Of course, you still owe me- ARGH!" Hanze cried, hands flying to his head, pain wracking his body.

It was that horrible pain that had almost cost him his life against Zenos. The soul tearing, head splitting, white hot agony. 

_"Expanse contract… Throw wide the gates… Open!"_

Hanze clutched his head, back arched in pain as he tried to resist having his soul torn from him as with the rest of the Scions. 

It hurt!

It hurt! Stop! _Please make it stop!_  
-  
Aymeric could do nothing but scream for the healer as he had to nearly climb onto the bed and pin the auri down to keep himself from seizing too hard.

"Hanze? Hanze!" He begged, hands gripping firmly but gently at the warrior’s face. It hurt to see his face contorted in a silent scream as tears of agony slid down his cheeks. Tears that Aymeric's thumbs wiped away without a thought.

"Stay with me, Hanze! Stay with me!" He found himself begging, his voice hoarse from screaming for the chirurgeon, which thankfully entered the room hurriedly.

"He's… I don't know! Whatever is taking the Scions is attacking him!" Aymeric tried to explain, not moving from his position over the other, having to use his whole body to keep the large au ra pinned to the bed.

As the medic closed in, it seemed whatever was happening, stopped and Hanze let out a pained wheeze, his body still tense. After a fashion, he collapsed in a heap against the bed, exhausted and sunken eyes slowly looking up towards Aymeric. "It...it happened again…" he replied, voice hoarse and tired.

The chirurgeon, a different younger elezen this time, hesitated briefly, "I must check to make sure you did not reopen your wounds."

"I am fine just… I could use some water." He muttered, which caused the younger chirurgeon to hesitate. Hanze only cast him a glare and he shrunk away slightly, "If you are sure…" the medic responded slowly before making his way back out, clearly newer and more timid than his overbearing superiors.

Aymeric watched the medic go, forgetting he had his full weight down on the warrior. He felt the heat rise to his face, his body tingling where their bodies pressed together. He desperately wanted to stay there, carding his fingers through the golden strands of silken hair that cascaded around the others face so elegantly, whispering soothing words and never letting go.

Despite this desperate wish… it was wholly inappropriate and Aymeric carefully extracted himself from his awkward half-on-the-bed-half-off-the-bed position to return himself to the chair. 

"They are… becoming far more frequent." He muttered, his heart cracking at the mere thought of losing the other. Not for political reasons of what Hanze was capable of on the battlefield… but because he was Aymeric’s deepest friend… and someone the Lord Commander loved too dearly to admit openly.

"You should go… I will be fine. I promise I will stay in bed," Hanze urged, mostly needing to collect himself in peace. Having Aymeric see him at such a low point... this weakened state was not something the warrior wanted. He never wanted anyone to see him bleed… to see him suffer. It was shameful and he had to be better, to do better.

Hesitating longer than he should have, Aymeric went to stand, moving to place his hand against the auri's shoulder, but thought better of it. "I will leave you to rest then, my friend," he offered the warmest smile he could before reluctantly leaving Hanze to the silence of the room after taking a moment longer to glance over his shoulder once more.


End file.
